


Swept To Shore

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/F, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michiru remembers that she and Haruka aren't supposed to be together at all, but that's not enough to stop her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swept To Shore

**Author's Note:**

> Written off the First Kiss prompt for the start of HaruMichi month.

It’s an accident, almost.

Just because Haruka picked up Uranus’ transformation wand didn’t mean their lives fell suddenly in sync. The result was quite the opposite, in fact, as Michiru realized how the two of them had done their level best to assign every waking hour to a club or race or concert, anything to keep busy and away from the pressure crushing in, falling like a dark wave in dreams and visions. The moment one piece was shifted, everything threatened to crumble, and while shared circumstance made them each other’s confidantes, they were also the flashpoint for any mirrored frustrations.

Fighting with Haruka is like trying to argue with the wind – which is fitting but no less irritating for its veracity – with comments brushed off only to whip back around a moment later and slice to the bone. Michiru knows better than to take the bait, but something in her yearns to rise up and meet that passion, even it wasn’t the sort she wants deep down. But those words are too hard to say, compressed into the stone lodged in her throat, the salt stinging her eyes.

They flirted, certainly. Haruka did that with ease, scattering compliments like coins at Michiru’s feet, but whether she deigned to acknowledge them depended on the day. To her private delight, that made Haruka try harder, artificial arrogance crumbling against the simple bastion of time. Water can wear through stone with enough patience, Michiru knows, and when Haruka was tired of floating around unanchored, she was waiting as a port in the storm.

So here they were now, lounging on the hood of Haruka’s car looking out to the sea, watching the firm golden rays of the sun melt into viscous oranges and reds, spreading through the clouds and across infinitely rolling waves. Michiru doesn’t have to look to know her hand is centimeters away from Haruka’s tapered fingers, the nails always cut short and even but never absent a touch of grease from some engine or another.

Sometimes their hands brush together, but neither one of them ever mention it aloud.

A lack of desire isn’t the problem. That exists in spades, churning low in Michiru’s stomach and tugging at a part of her heart that she was sure had forgotten feeling all together. It’s the worst when Haruka doesn’t know she’s looking and can drink her fill, watching how the wind effortlessly parts blonde hair back from that noble brow, and Michiru’s fingers twitch in sympathy with the urge to do the same action.

But they shouldn’t be here. That she knows more than anything, as if the truth has been carved into the inside of her skull. It’s like trying to force two magnets together against their polarity, the resistance unrelenting.

Not in this time, not in this place. Something has gone wrong, but Michiru doesn’t know where, because the only thing the visions have told her is that without Haruka, stopping the end of the world would be impossible. That makes it all the more a mystery why it hurts to be so close.

“You’ve been frowning for ten minutes.” Haruka says, and Michiru would feel like she had just been plunged into a bath full of ice if her ears weren’t burning. “I thought you liked the view here.”

“I do.” Everything about it, too beautiful to risk consuming, even with just her eyes. “But I’m surprised you’re not bored yet.”

The comment is parried with a shrug. “It was a long drive. Cleared my head out so I’m not so restless.”

They had danced like this so many times before, toeing over the lines drawn between each other only to recoil when one threatened to intersect. Michiru found it nothing short of maddening, but remained compelled to press forward when Haruka retreated, only for fear to drive her back the moment their positions reversed. She needed a lure, something that would trap the two of them both just long enough to meet.

Michiru turns, provocation brewing between her lips as she propped herself up on one elbow, only to come face-to-face with Haruka, who had moved like they were bound on the same axis. Like their hands a moment before, only centimeters lingered between both of their mouths, and Michiru’s pulse spikes, daring near panic.

“What are you doing?” It comes out as an accusation, hot on Michiru’s tongue, quenched by regret a second after the words leave her lips.

“Me?” Blue eyes flash, looking as startled as she felt. “What about you?”

Hesitation wipes Michiru’s mind blank, but drawing in a staggered breath is a mistake; it makes Haruka flinch. “I don’t know. Just that I shouldn’t.”

“Wait. You feel that too?” Haruka’s teeth are bared, body tight like a punch is expected, or maybe Michiru had just thrown one. “I thought I was the only one.”

“Why would you ever be the only one, Haruka?” Michiru whispers back. “We’re both here for a reason.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with saving the world.” Haruka says.

_Oh, but shouldn’t it_ , Michiru thinks for a fleeting second, so foolishly romantic that she nearly laughs.

“We have to have more than that.” She puts forth the words like a declaration, a light to guide them both. “I’m not heroic enough to be a martyr. I can’t keep counting down the days.”

Something flickers through Haruka’s gaze, bright and dangerous. A frisson of heat zips under Michiru’s skin in turn; it’s a new look, nothing like the playful, rakish demeanor she’s come to expect. “Are you asking me to distract you?”

All she has to do is answer, fight back the voice screaming in the back of her head that they’re meant to be divided, that a force greater than what either of them possesses has made it so. “Yes.”

The reaction isn’t instant. A tilt of the chin, a caught breath, and Michiru suddenly knows Haruka is fighting the same restraint she is, and it’s only fair to help. Their lips brush and she swears lightning jumps between their teeth, the kiss coming in fits and starts until she’s clinging to Haruka’s mouth, desperate to surrender unto a hunger long denied. It’s messy, artless, and exactly what Michiru has wanted all along.

And Haruka has to want it too, because she hears a sound that’s unmistakably a whine, keening in that straining throat that Michiru yearns to wrap her fingers around, feel the vibration down to the bone. When they break apart breathless, it’s only a moment before Michiru surges forward again, willing to burn all the air out of her lungs because this is _Haruka_ and yes, she could die for this.

Maybe it’s not their sacred duty, but it’s more than enough, blood singing like everything off-center in her body has just been righted.

As the sun falls below the horizon, Haruka grips Michiru’s hand tight, their fingers locking together in a wordless promise.

–


End file.
